Blood Runs Thicker
by CaptainStiles24
Summary: Separated in the second wave, best friends Hadley and Gray have to survive with unlikely groups. Will these best friends find one another again on the trail to a safe haven? And if they do, will they be able to trust one another in a world where all hope has been lost? 5th Wave AU. Disclaimer, I only own the characters. Co-authored with @doppelganger08
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys! So I know I've been on a hiatus for, like, a year but I'm back! This is a story that I've been working on with my friend, doppelganger08, give her a follow! We got inspiration for this a while ago and Wattpad saw it first, but now we're putting it on here. This is an AU based in Texas where two separate groups of survivors are trying to stay alive. I wrote the perspective of Hadley while doppelganger08 wrote the perspective of Gray. I hope you enjoy!

Full summary:

When the first wave hit, it was a massive blackout. Even Hadley's mind was dark and void.  
When the second wave hit, the water took Gray down with it, and drowned her in the new reality.  
It used to be so simple for them. All Hadley had to worry about was her spot on the basketball team and her trumpet while Gray was caught up with choir auditions and her upcoming Algebra exams.  
And, of course, they have boys to face. There will always be boys.  
Now, they constantly countenance oncoming threats, including aliens, and the typical teenage drama.  
Will these best friends find one another again on the trail to a safe haven? And if they do, will they be able to trust one another in a world where all hope has been lost?

A/N: I know in the books the waves were over a longer period of time but they come after one another quickly in this story for the sake of the plot.

* * *

 **Hadley: 1**

I thought Friday's were supposed to be fun. In a stark contrast to Monday's, that is. Well this Friday was very different from Monday, but not in a good way. This Friday was easily the worst day of my life.

I mean, it started out good. I woke up around 6, went to basketball practice, and managed to stay awake during my classes. I was ready to boycott school completely, finding no point in going anymore. With the power cut off and the mother ship looming above us, I found no point in anything anymore.

But it was when I walked into band that everything changed. I unloaded my instrument, popping my mouthpiece into my shiny trumpet. The trumpets were across the hall today- every section in our class interchanged the days that they had one on one practice with the assistant director.

I walk into the practice room to find the other trumpets already set up, playing through their scales. I take my seat in third chair. There were only five of us, and I didn't think I was good enough to even be in third chair.

Anyways, I sat in between Ben and Oliver. Oliver was the second chair player, although I always thought that he deserved first. He was shy and quiet, not disrespectful like the actual first chair, his best friend, Asher.

And Ben, the fourth chair-I don't know about him. While Oliver is quiet in a respectful way, Ben is quiet in a weird way. He's sickly thin, his eyes sunken in. He's the kind of guy who watches Anime, and he's always wearing a thick green hoodie. It's probably because he doesn't have enough body fat to keep him warm.

And Asher, the first chair, and as I said, Oliver's best friend. He's this cocky, obnoxious loudmouth who thinks he knows everything about anything. I hate him immensely. He's always putting Oliver in his shadow, treating him poorly. I believe that Oliver deserves better.

Lastly, fifth chair, is this guy named Kyle. At the beginning of the year, Kyle and I became pretty good friends. That all changed when he tried to kiss me-that's a whole other story. He's absent all of the time. That means most of the time there's only four trumpets, not enough to make a difference.

So I sat down in my chair, adjusting my slides so I didn't sound too sharp or too flat. Not long after, a band director came in and led us through our warm up.

"Our Christmas concert is in three weeks," Mrs. Ledger said. "You guys have to play better!"

I've never liked Mrs. Ledger. She was too young, too strict, and too stuck-up. She never gave us real pointers, just told us to sound better. She's supposedly a great clarinet player, but I seriously doubt it.

"Again," Mrs. Ledger said. "From the top!"

I reluctantly raised my trumpet again, starting to play the Jingle Bell Rock. However, we only reached the fourth measure before the ground broke out into a frantic shake.

My chair rattled, and I was thrown onto the ground. Our music stands fell over, papers flying everywhere. Even the whiteboards on the wall fell, clattering to the floor with a loud bang.

"GET DOWN!" Mrs. Ledger shouted over the ruckus. We dropped to our knees, throwing our hands protectively around our heads. I distantly noticed Oliver and I's arms pressed up against each other.

Another wave of shaking rolled in, the ground grumbling. This time it was more forceful, and I lost my balanced. I blushed as I was thrown against Oliver.

The shaking died down. I was almost afraid to move, scared that the ground would split in two right below my knees. But Oliver grabbed my shoulders, steadying me.

"Are you okay?" he asked me.

I nodded, my face hot. "Yeah. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he said.

"Is everyone alright?" Mrs. Ledger asked, standing up straight and adjusting her hair.

"We're fine," we all grumbled in return. We cautiously rose to our feet, making sure the ground was stable beneath us. Except even though it was sturdy, _I_ wasn't. _It's happening_ , I thought. _First the electricity and now what? An earthquake_?

"I'll be right back. I'm going to go find out what's going on," Mrs. Ledger announced, brushing off her clothes.

I rolled my eyes at her, turning back to the mess in the room. I picked up my stand, gathering the papers that flew from my binder. I set my chair upright and grabbed my trumpet, sighing in relief when I found that it wasn't damaged.

"Aw, man!" I heard Asher complain. "My trumpet! It's dented!"

Oliver shrugged. "That sucks, dude."

"Yeah, it sucks!" Asher whined. He wagged his fist at the ceiling. "Those aliens owe my a new trumpet!"

"Hey," Ben suddenly said, startling me. He never talked. Like, _ever_. "We don't know that it was the aliens."

Asher gestured wildly with his hands. "Of course it's the aliens! We are practicing by candle light because of them! Surely they didn't plan to kill us by just turning off our power!"

Ben raised his hands in surrender. "Hey-I'm just saying. You have no proof."

As if on que, Mrs. Ledger bursts through the door, her eyes looking wild. "It's them," she confirmed. "Another attack. I need you guys to listen to me for once in your life."

 _Geez_. That was uncalled for.

"Lock the door," Mrs. Ledger said. "Lock it and don't come out until I say you can. Do you understand?"

We all nodded. No one spoke. Not even Asher said a word. We were all scared, I knew. I felt it in the sudden stillness of the room.

Mrs. Ledger turned towards the door, and I spoke up. "Aren't you going to stay with us?"

Mrs. Ledger shook her head. "We have to make sure the kids in the band hall are safe. I'll be back when the storm is over."

 _Storm_? None of us protested. We simply walked back to our seats and sat, waiting. We didn't know what we were waiting for, but I had a feeling that all of us were preparing for the worst.

"I'm going to say it because obviously, no one else will," Asher said, throwing up his hands. "We're never going to see Mrs. Ledger again."

I knew he was right, no matter how much it pained me to admit that Asher was right. We were never going to see her again. Except I didn't know if it would be us not getting the opportunity to see her, or her not getting the opportunity to see us.

Death is a weird thing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Gray: 2**

When the wave hit, I was on the toilet.

Perched on the edge of the seat with my hands folded together, I sat on the toilet thinking. At least I wasn't actually using the toilet when it hit; My pants would've been around my ankles when I was pulled into a classroom. Or, at least, a practice room.

I never had to actually go when I requested to go to the bathroom. I just needed to get away from all of the drama and directions in that room. I was in an all girls choir. I bet you can only imagine how that is...

Except I'm never alone in the bathroom. My friend Amy always insists on going with me, claiming that girls never use the bathroom alone. And that Friday, a girl named Bree came with us too, because she actually had to go.

I sat in my little stall of thinking space, the one place that I can get away from school without actually leaving. I heard Bree flushing next to me and sighed, knowing that pretty soon, we'd have to go back.

"Come on out, Gray," Amy said. "We've been in here for five minutes."

"Just a few more seconds," I called, my mind swimming. "Please."

I heard Amy sigh, but she didn't say anything. So I continued to sit, my hands now on my temples and massaging gently.

"It's been six minutes," Amy noted, annoyed. "If you don't come out now, Bree and I are leaving without you."

That actually didn't sound so bad, them leaving me here to wallow in my misery alone. But once they got back, our director would be worried, and he'd send some choir girls to come looking for me. I didn't want that to happen again.

So reluctantly, I stood to my feet, wavering slightly as I felt the blood flood back into my toes and momentarily leave my head. I felt a little woozy, and before I knew it, I fell back against the wall, right next to the toilet.

Except even as I hit the wall, I realized it wasn't just me that was shaking, but the ground was also shaking. I was knocked to my feet, dust from the ceiling showering down on me.

My heart started beating wildly, and I could've sworn I tasted blood. Outside of my stall, I could hear the mirrors falling to the ground, shattering. I wondered if Amy and Bree were okay and if they had the sense to run or not.

I latched my hands over my head, everything this school has ever taught me in earthquake drills running through my mind. I shakily turned around to face the wall, but as soon as I was covered, the shaking stopped.

I waited a moment before I stood up, and when I did, I realized that it wasn't blood I was tasting, but bile. My head felt like cotton, and there was a ringing in my ears. I dizzily approached the stall door, shoving it open.

My eyes immediately fell on the broken glass in front of me, the shards large and deathly. And on top of those, other stall doors had fallen off, crashing to the floor.

Then I saw Amy and Bree. Of course they didn't run. They're too thoughtful, darn them. I should've known that they wouldn't leave me, even when they should've been smarter.

They were crouched in the corner next to the sinks, eyes wide in fear. As the ringing in my ears faded, I heard crying. I took a better, more clearer look at Amy and found that she was whimpering. Because imbedded at least two inches in her arm was a thick sharp piece of glass.

Her blood was like a rapid stream, gushing out and running down her arm until it reached her fingers, dripping onto Bree's pants. Very uncharacteristically, I cursed, smashing glass under my feet as I reached them.

"Amy..." I said, my stomach clenching as I saw all of the blood. "We...we have to get you back."

I felt so useless. In situations like these, I always seemed to freeze up. Luckily, Bree didn't, and she helped Amy to her feet as we hurried back to the choir room.

As we left the bathroom, we were met with chaos. Teachers ran around like chickens with their heads chopped off, desperately trying to find out what was going on. Children were out there too, screaming and crying like it was the end of the world. Who knows-it might've been.

It didn't help that it was pitch-black in the halls. The only light there was came from the sun, pouring in from the windows above. I looked up to the second floor and found that it was just a reflection of what was happening down here. The stairs were flooded, every stairwell in the building crowded with people. I started to feel claustrophobic.

I wondered if we should hurry Amy to the nurse or just go back to the choir room. I was about to ask, but Bree seemed to be leading Amy back to 4th period. I figured that that was a smart choice. The nurses office wasn't very close, and we wouldn't make it if another earthquake decided to happen.

We turned into the fine arts hall, heading towards the choir room, which was luckily the first room on the left. But before we could reach the door, we heard a lady's voice, shouting at us.

"Hey! You three!" she shouted from down the hall, outside of the band room. "Hurry! Come with me!"

I looked at the feeble Amy and strong Bree, questioning if we should follow this lady or not. But they only shrugged and walked towards the lady. I followed, knowing that she was an authoritative figure and she would guarantee our safety. I've seen her around school before. I think her name was Ledger or something.

"Hurry!" she shouted at us. We jogged towards her, Amy crying out with every step. Mrs. Ledger opened the door to a practice room, peering inside before ushering us in.

"She's injured," I tell Mrs. Ledger dumbly. "She needed help."

"I'll send someone," Mrs. Ledger said. "But for now, sit tight, and don't open the door for anyone."

My group and I nod, closing the door behind her. Once she is gone, we look into to room, nearly jumping out of our skin when we realized that we weren't the only ones in there.

"Um, hello," I said. Their faces illuminated by candle light, I see this crazy smart guy from my math class, Colin. And with Colin is the one and only Jack Cruiser. Of course I had to be trapped in a room with him...

"Hi," Jack replied. They had their saxophones out, looking like they were practicing before the earthquake hit. There were a few more chairs in the room, so we went over and sat down, Amy wincing with every move.

"Whoa, she's hurt," Colin exclaimed, setting down his instrument. He crossed over to us, examining her arm. "She bleeding a lot too."

"Tell us something we don't know," replied Bree bitterly.

"Jack, I need your rag," Colin said. Jack looked at him in question while wiping done his saxophone with his rag. "Just give it to me."

Jack tossed Colin his rag. "I also need a shirt," Colin said. "Or something to tie off the circulation."

"Here," I said, handing Colin the scarf from around my neck. It was a birthday present.

Colin wrapped the scarf around Amy's arm, right above the wound. With a warning that it would hurt, and tightly pulled the scarf, tying it around her bicep.

Amy cried out, biting down on her lip. I noticed how pale her face looked, and how greenish she appeared too.

Colin's hand moved towards the glass in her arm, looking at it from every angle. "How did this happen?"

"We were in the bathroom," I said. "The mirrors broke."

"Are you going to pull it out?" Jack asked, standing next to Colin. He held a candle, giving Colin some light.

"If your rag will soak up all of the blood, then sure," Colin said. "But it won't."

"Use my jacket," Jack suggested, walking back over to his chair to grab his hoodie draped over the back of it. "Here."

Colin looked at it, weighing the options. "This might work," he said. So placed the rag around the base of the glass, he readied himself. I held Amy's hand, knowing that she'd probably pass out from the pain.

"This might hurt," Colin said, being cheesy. "Ready?"

Amy clenched her eyes tight but nodded her head, biting down on her bottom lip. Getting the okay, Colin pulled at the glass, Amy screaming as it came free from her skin. I was right. At least two inches of the glass was coated in her blood.

Colin tossed it aside and quickly covered the wound with Jack's rag, soaking up the blood. It was smart of him to tie off her wound first, or else there would've been a lot more blood.

"Where did you learn how to do this?" I asked Colin, amazed.

"A tourniquet?" He only shrugged. "I watch a lot of movies."

About a minute later, the door to the practice room flew open, a kid named Andy running in. "Who's hurt?"

"Amy," I said. "We need bandages or a doctor."

Andy nodded, breathless like he had been running. He probably had been. "I'll run down to the nurses office. I'll be right back."

He left, the door swinging closed behind him. Colin continued to mop up Amy's blood with Jack's jacket wihile the rest of us sat, feeling exhausted.

That was the last time that I saw Andy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hadley: 3**

We had been sitting in the practice room for about thirty minutes, but it felt like thirty hours. In that time, I looked around the small room, thinking about how we could use everything in there to survive encase we were stuck for awhile.

Everyone was silent out of fear, but we were also tired. I was actually dozing off, along with everyone else, when the water started leaking in.

I shot to my feet, running over to examine the crack in the door. The boys followed me, everyone returning to their panicky state. I pressed my ear to the door and heard the gushing of strong waves. The water at my feet was seeping in rapidly, and I furrowed my eyebrows as I tried to think.

"Quick!" I screamed to the boys. "That filing cabinet! Can you move it?"

Asher smirked. "Of course we can! I got this, guys. I can handle it."

I rolled my eyes. "Now is not the time for your cockiness, Asher! That filing cabinet is too big, and you know it! There is water pouring in and if we don't stop it, we will drown before we make it out of here!"

Nobody asked questions. I grabbed some cleaning rags from the closet and tried to dry up some of the leakage while the boys struggled with the filing cabinet. Eventually, they settled for pushing it, scooting it over to the door. I moved out of the way after pressing towels against the creases in the door and let them place the cabinet in front.

The boys huffed, taking deep breaths as we all stepped back from the door. My heart was pounding like crazy in my chest, and I didn't even move anything.

"You said water," Oliver said.

I nodded. "Right outside of the door. Sounded like an ocean in our hallway."

Asher furrowed his eyebrows. "That doesn't make any sense."

"It makes a lot of sense," I state, rubbing at my forehead as I thought about it. "It was actually pretty smart of them."

"Them?" Asher questions. "The aliens?"

"No, the other people trying to take Earth from us," I remarked sarcastically. "But it was smart. If you want to clear out Earth, what better way to do it then wipe out the coasts."

"I don't understand!" Asher exclaimed. "How are they wiping out the coasts?"

"You felt the ground shake and saw the water gushing in," I said grimly. "Asher, we're in the middle of a tsunami."

Everyone went silent, sinking **(A/N: pun unitended ;))** in what I had just told them. I thought about it too, wondering how on Earth we could survive through this. I returned to looking around the room, taking the idea of surviving much more serious now.

Asher and Oliver returned to their chairs, plopping down exhaustively. Ben was huddled in the corner, staring off into space with a look that sent a chill down my spine. And Kyle stood next to me as I looked around, oddly determined.

"Do you think it will get through?" Kyle asked me. "The water, I mean."

I shrugged, refusing to make eye contact with him. It's kind of become a habit, to shrug him off. I just can't help but be annoyed every time I look at him.

"It depends," I said, staring blankly at the door. I could hear the water, rushing in from the back doors. The force of it probably busted open the glass.

Sighing, I turn away from him, walking over to third chair out of habit. I sit down next to Oliver and Asher, rubbing at my forehead tiredly.

Kyle sits down next to me. "You should get some sleep."

I roll my eyes at him. "It's twelve o'clock. I think I can manage."

"What about when the storm stops?" Kyle questioned me. "We'll need rest for whenever we get out."

"What about now?" I ask, shaking my head. "Really-I'm not tired."

Kyle stays where he is for a moment, his eyes gazing at me as if begging for me to return his look. Except I refused, grabbing my music stand and folding it flat so that I could rest my arms on it.

Kyle sighed, standing up. "Fine," he said. "I'll...be over there."

He crosses the room to where Ben is sitting and plops down on the floor next to him. I watch him as he goes and then turn back to rest on the stand.

"He's right, you know," Asher said suddenly, making my head lift. I find him and Oliver looking at me.

I shrug. "I know," I said. "Except it's not my place to do anything about it."

"Isn't it, though?" Asher replied, leaning over Oliver to talk to me.

I shake my head. "No. It's not. I don't know what makes you think it is."

Oliver answered this time, his deep voice that I found so endearing making my stomach roll. "Because you're the leader."

I looked at him questioningly. "Since when?"

Oliver shrugged. "You seem to know what to do."

"So what do we do?" Asher asked, asking for directions for once in his life.

I was startled, the both of them suddenly putting me on a pedestal. And I was completely stupefied, not knowing what to do at all despite their claims.

"We...uh," I started, gulping. "We..."

"This is stupid!" Asher exclaimed, standing to his feet. "This is stupid! She doesn't know what to do!"

"Asher-" Oliver tried, but it was no use. And he was right-I really didn't know anything.

"No! Come on, Oliver. Let's get out of here!" Asher announced, crossing the room to where the door was guarded by the filing cabinet.

He started to push at it, and that's what ignited the spark in me. One second, I was laying my head on the music stand. The next, I was on my feet, charging at Asher. I shoved him away from the door, fuming.

"Are you crazy?" I shouted at him, furious.

Asher went towards the filing cabinet again, but I pushed him back. "Just listen to me-" Asher said.

"No, you listen to me, moron," I yelled at him. I distantly noticed that everyone in the room was starting to crowd around us, wondering if they should interfere or not. "A freaking tsunami rolled through the back doors and probably killed who was left in our school! If you think for one second that splitting up is a good idea, you're just as dead as the rest of them."

I paused, looking around at the other three. As I looked into each one of their eyes-even Kyle's-I knew that I had the right thing to say. "We're dealing with aliens here! ALIENS! Aliens whose technology is light years ahead of ours."

I turn back to Asher. "I don't know what your plan is, genius, but open that door, and we'll all be dead!"

Breathing heavily from the shouting, I looked back at everyone, finding that I already had their full attention. "So if everyone would just get their _acts together_ and started thinking with _a level head_ , then we might actually have a chance at surviving."

Tiredly, I walked away, giving Asher one last glare before I went back to my chair and put my head back on the stand. Behind me, I heard a snicker.

"That's her," I heard Asher say. "That's the leader I was talking about."


	4. Chapter 4

**Gray: 4**

An hour and a half after Andy leaves, I pace the floor. The room is cramped, with unused chairs and music stands pilling at the corners. Bree sits on a cart filled with folding chairs, her scowl enough to know we shouldn't try talking to her.

Colin is hovering over Amy, who's slumped miserably against the wall, her head down. I haven't seen her smile in over fifteen minutes, which is a new record for her.

Jack insists on continuing to practice. The sound reverberates everywhere, and suddenly, over the fear and anxiety, I feel claustrophobic. I race over to the other side of the room, where he casually leans against the wall, cradling his sax.

"Is there any way you could stop playing? It's a little loud, and I think we're all stressed enough without that blasting. It's good, I mean you're talented, but..." My voice drifts off as he looks up from his music, licking his lips as he pulls away.

I grimace as he slowly looks me up and down. I cross my arms over my chest, glaring at him. He shrugs as a lazy grin falls onto his features.

"Look, I came in here to practice, so that's what I'm going to do. And before anything else comes out of that annoyingly large mouth, this is what's keeping me from getting stressed. And I doubt you want to see me stressed." His voice is smooth and infuriating.

I mutter under my breath and start pacing again, ignoring the satisfied smirk he's giving me.

I'm contemplating the perfect insult when Amy shrieks. My head snaps up as I meet her horrified gaze. Then I look down. Two inches of grimy water covers the floor, swishing and swirling as it slowly rises. My stomach clenches again.

"Everyone, we gotta get out now!" I yell, snapping Bree out of her angry trance and motivating Colin to help Amy to her feet. I yank at the door, but it's sealed shut. The panic I felt earlier comes rushing back, and an involuntary scream rips out of my throat. Trapped. Trapped. No way out. Have get out. Don't have time.

Trapped.

Then two hands cover mine, pulling them away. I'm about to yank my hands back when Jack's sax smashes against the handle, popping it off. He shrugs again, then flings the dented metal onto the nearest table. Colin moans in protest as it clangs into his own pricey instrument.

"I doubt I'm gonna have to play it again." Jack says, glancing at Colin.

"I don't understand you." I hiss, before opening the door. Immediately a wall of water soaks us both. I gasp as the cold hits. It's like a mud slide, leaves and rocks and dirt swept up in the frigid water. I feel Amy wade up next to me.

"Where are we going to go?"

"We need supplies. Our backpacks are in the other rooms, along with lunches, so we should head to the cafeteria."

"Do you think the six-graders made it out in time?" Colin asks. "It could be...an unpleasant sight."

Jack snorts at the nerd's choice of words. All I know is that we have to get out. I nod at Colin, just to let the conversation end, and leave the doorframe getting my first look at the hall.

Amy screams before I get the chance to.

The pictures left on the walls are soaked, which means that when the water first hit it was high enough that anyone standing on the first floor is dead. The water is just above our ankles now, but it's enough that the bodies still float.

That's when I realize that it's not just mud coloring the water. It's blood.

I can hear the reactions behind me, and I open my mouth to take a deep breath so I don't have to smell them. Amy clings to my arm, whimpering. Bree gags, but moves past the boys to join me. I know that I can't comfort any of them, so I don't bother to turn around. Bree walks in front of me.

"Guys, this is going to be what we're looking at for a while. We might try to get used to it." Then she grabs my other elbow and forces me to start moving.

We're almost out of the band hall when I notice a particular body floating by the entrance of the band room. Her long, blonde hair flows out wispy in all directions, covering her face. But I've seen enough. _Hadley_.

I gurgle and fall down on my knees, dragging Amy with me and making Bree stumble. Hot tears roll down, splashing into the churning water.

None of them realize why I'm crying. They don't know I just saw my best friend, dead. One of the few people I actually cared about, gone. Just like that.

I could've stayed there. Just sat and cried until nothing was left. I didn't have anything left. Hadley was the strong one, the fighter, the realist. If she's dead, then my family probably is too. Which means there is no reason I should be alive. Why am I still alive?

My sobs echo through the hall, and they quickly become more violent. I can't breathe, can't think, can't move.

My vision becomes blurry, my body begins to shake, and the cold seeps up to my thighs.

The same meddling hands from earlier come up underneath my armpits, forcing me to stand. I yell, and claw at him, fighting to breath, fighting to stay.

"Let me go Jack, p-please, let me go, I don't w-want to keep going, let me g-g-go!" I say, twisting to grab fistfuls of his shirt to push him away.

He grabs my arms and twists them above my head. I kick as hard as I can, but my feet hit a nearby body. I shudder. I have to fight, I can't keep going with them, I want to die-

"Snap out of it. You are not going to quit. Not now. There is a reason you are still alive, and you are not going to give up on us. Stop being selfish!" He says, shaking me until I can't cry anymore.

My head clears, and for a moment, all I see are his eyes. For the first time, he isn't joking. And for the first time, I'm willing to listen.

In that instant, my world shifts. I block the panicked voice from my mind. He's right. I'm alive, and whether I like it or not, I have a responsibility. This is life now, and the sooner I accept it, the longer I'll survive. I glance around at the terrified faces. I made them terrified. I made them stop moving.

I swallow my dying pride and guilt, and stand up on my own. I nod and look with great effort into his eyes. As if sensing my thoughts, he lets go of my arms.

Bree takes me from Jack, puts my arm around her shoulder, and keeps walking. I shake my arm off her shoulder and walk ahead of the group, keeping my chin up.

No one speaks. I don't even have the time to feel humiliated.

We round the corner, avoiding bodies as much as we can, sometimes clearing the way by pilling them up against the side walls.

The cafeteria reeks. And not in the usual sense.

Bloated bodies are strewn everywhere, like wrapping paper after a party. The tables hold most of them, slumped over and dripping wet. Others are bashed against the counters and torn up tile.

I cover my mouth and nose with my sweater, and the rest of the group copies my actions. We run through the mass to the kitchens. Bree volunteers to go first, launching herself over the counter and narrowly avoiding a massive lunch lady, bloated and blue.

After a few minutes, she calls for us to join her. We follow her voice to a store room in the back. She grins at us in triumph. Next to her is a huge door, completely sealed shut and most likely airtight. No water could have gotten in here, and thanks to the counters there's not much where we're standing.

Colin and Jack do the honors, and the door slides open to reveal a miracle. Bottled water takes up a quarter of the storeroom, and the rest is fruit, cold meat, and rolls already prepared for the next day. The meat looks precooked too, so for a while we should be fine.

A part of me wonders how long 'a while' will actually be.

Amy comes back to the group in a few minutes with a cheeky grin. We hadn't noticed she was gone, but before we could reprimand her for not telling us, she holds up three drying backpacks.

Her only response to us gaping at her is: "Well, like Jack said, I don't think they're gonna need them again." Her voice faltered at the end, and I took the moment to look at her clearly. She wasn't favoring her bandaged arm, and her head was held high, her body straight and confident. To top it all off, a slight smile was covering her dirty face.

But her eyes were wide, her pupils dilated, and I could see everything running through her petrified mind. But she was still going. She wasn't giving up.

And now I knew, without a doubt, that as long as these people are with me, I will not give up. I will not let them down.

I give her the brightest smile I can and take one of the backpacks, shaking off the dripping water before loading it to the brim with the food. Jack and Colin do the same.

I pull mine on, pretending not to cringe under the weight. Bree notices.

"We'll switch off the backpacks every few hours." she says. We all nod, and I add another resolution to my new survival list.

I will get stronger. I will be capable. I will beat this.

Gray Trainor is dead. She wouldn't have survived this.

But I will.

After the cafeteria, we trudge over to the nurse's office. Amy's wound needs cleaning, and we know any of us could easily be injured again.

"We also need weapons, guys, so look for anything sharp. Find the needle stash, and maybe break off some chair legs." Bree says.

After she realizes we're staring at her, she scowls again.

"What? I'm guessing that these alien freaks put at least five of them in the school, because of how many people are here. I doubt any of these died, as they were prepared. And who knows how many are just outside the building? We can't just sit here and wait to run out of supplies, we have to move. And if we're moving, we have to be able to fight. So don't look at me like I'm some violent idiot."

After this speech, she grabs my backpack and fills the smaller compartment with the aspirin and ibuprofen. Amy goes to the back with Colin, and from the hissing noise she made, I figured they found the rubbing alcohol.

They return with a half-empty bottle and a few rolls of brand-new gauze.

Jack is happily breaking chairs and collecting the legs. I turn to a room in the back, where the beds are. Ripping off the curtains and pulling the sheets off the bed, I turn and walk back to the entrance. We all meet there.

"Okay, so, we have weapons, medical supplies, and food. I think we're all set," I say.

"Ugh, wait. What about showers?" Colin asks.

The room goes silent.

"We will cross the bridge when we get to it." Amy says.

I don't have any ideas and neither does anyone else. So we leave the office with one more issue fresh on our minds, but we were traveling blind.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hadley: 5**

I decided that I didn't trust Asher by the door. I shooed them off and then set up camp there, leaning against the filing cabinet. The sounds of the water outside was still roaring, but it was also luring me to sleep.

Back in his corner, Ben had a pocket knife out. How he managed to sneak that into a school, I don't know. But I wasn't in the least bit surprised, knowing him. He was flipping it expertly between his fingers, unflinching.

"Hey," I called to him. "Ever whittle a piece of wood before?"

"Of course," Ben replied, looking at me blankly.

I stood up and crossed the room to the marimba, pulling at the bars. I plucked up the B, C, D, and E, tossing them at his feet. They clattered to the ground in a musical bang.

"We might need weapons," I tell him. "Think you can do that?"

He nodded, grinning wickedly. "Oh," he said. "I can handle it."

Disturbed, I walk back to my spot by the door, wondering if it was such a good idea to put him in charge of weapons.

"Anyone have a watch on them?" Kyle asked. I was wondering the same thing myself. I would've looked at the wall clock, but it was knocked down and broken in the quakes.

"Yeah," Asher said. He pulled back the sleeve of his hoodie to check his FitBit. "It's 1:37."

"Two hours," I mumbled. Two hours the tsunami has been going on, and the tension in the room was thick. I was surprised that no one was hungry, but I guess their appetite was washed away just like everything else in the building.

It was silent again. The only sound you could hear was Ben's knife cutting at the bars and Asher's obnoxiously loud breathing. God, even his breathing set me off.

In the silence, I thought about my family. My dad worked downtown. I hoped that he made it to some place high up, maybe the rooftops. And my brother and sister, at their schools, maybe in a small room like I was. I also hoped that my mom had the sense to leave, to grab my grandma and my cat and get somewhere safe. I refused to believe that any of them weren't safe, because if they weren't, there wasn't a point. I have always struggled in seeing the point anyways.

"Do you really think they're dead?" Kyle pondered aloud. He was such a loud mouth. I realized suddenly that there was only one person in that room that didn't mildly annoy me or creep me out.

Oliver sat quietly. He had put two chairs together to form a makeshift bed, resting his feet on the chair that I was sitting in before. His head was tipped back lazily, but his eyes regarded everyone as they were tiredly cracked open.

"Who?" Asher asked.

"Who do you think, idiot?" Kyle asked. Him and Asher never got along. He and Oliver were always indifferent to each other, too, except I don't know why. Asher and Kyle never got along because there was always this secret competition about who could gain more attention. But him and Oliver... I don't know. They used to get along. They started to fade apart right around the time that Kyle and I got close.

"Everyone," Kyle said. "Who knows? We might be the last ones alive."

I rolled my eyes. "Now you're being an idiot," I said. "A tsunami wouldn't hit everyone in the world. Just the coasts. Maybe places with lots of lakes. But no, we're not the only ones. We can't be."

"But everyone else in the school?" Asher asked, Kyle's question making him curious. "What about them?"

"Oh, yeah," I said, shrugging. "They are most likely dead."

Asher make a sound that was a mix between a cry and a gurgle. I know that he was probably thinking about his friends, his girlfriend. Delia was just across the hall, also a friend of mine. It sucks knowing that she probably drowned.

I started thinking about my friends. Kelly, dead. Jessica, dead. Sara, dead. Rachel, dead. And Gray- _oh, man, Gray_ ; all of them dead. I swallowed back the bile in my throat, the thought making me light-headed.

I know it was selfish and unreasonable, but I was suddenly very thankful that at least Oliver was here with me. It was a trivial little crush and stupid little fantasy, but I couldn't help it. He still meant something to me, and it meant even more that he was still alive.

"Anybody else hungry?" Asher pondered loudly, sniffling slightly like he was holding back tears. He's one of the cool guys, though; he would never admit that he was upset.

He's hungry. I knew it would happen sooner or later. I stood up, stretching. Wiping my eyes, I went around the room and snatched up everybody's lunch boxes, going over to a table. I emptied the contents of everyone's lunches, glad with what I found.

I was grateful that the boys in that room had loving mothers, because our food rations was more than enough to feed us for at least two weeks. I started to split it all up evenly, dividing it up accordingly to each day of the week and how many people there were.

"Here," I said. "This is everyone's food for now. Try to eat lightly. This is all we have right now."

All of the boys stood and grabbed their food, well, except Ben. Ben still sat in his corner, whittling some stakes. He was thin enough as it was. I had a greedy thought that if he didn't eat a meal or two, he'd survive.

I grabbed some apple slices from my food portion and went back to my spot. When I sat down, I laid my head against the cabinet, expecting to hear the water again. Except this time, I didn't.

Shooting to my feet, I pushed my ear up to the cabinet, listening. There was silence. On the other side of the door, all I could hear was, well, nothing.

"What is it?" Oliver said, standing as well. He walked over to me, listening too. Our eyes met, looking at each other as our ears were pressed up against the cabinet. His shallow blue ones were wide open when only a few seconds ago they were threatening to close in exhaustion.

"It's stopped," I said. "I can't hear it."

"Me either," said Oliver. We pulled away from the cabinet, hesitating as we wondered what to do next. Asher and Kyle and even Ben stood to listen as well.

They stepped back, wondering about our next step as well. "So," Asher said, looking at me. I realized that they were all looking at me. God, how much I hated being a leader. "What do we do?"

But despite not wanting to be in charge, I couldn't help but smile, giddy at the thought of escaping. "We get the heck out of here."


	6. Chapter 6

**Gray: 6**

We decided to spend the night on the roof. It was the easiest way to figure out what to do next, and there weren't any bodies. Amy's cut was getting worse and Colin, though he was doing the best he could, was getting tired. Jack volunteered for first watch, and Bree was walking around, looking for anything else that could be a weapon.

I settle down next to Amy's curled up form. Colin lies a few feet away, not asleep, just in a trance. The sky is bright and clear, something we never got to experience before the power went out. A breeze hits us, and we all try to hide our shivers from each other.

Amy hears me and looks up as I put an arm around her shoulder. She's the only one I really know, and I love her like a sister.

She smiles at me, her auburn hair swirling around her muddy face. "The sky's awake. So I'm awake." Amy says, smiling softly.

I don't have the energy to laugh. "How can you be so happy? Everyone we know is dead or about to be dead, you're wounded and we don't know how to fix it, and the temperature's dropping by the minute. How can you quote a kids movie right now?" I mutter.

I hate to admit it but I'm annoyed. She's tough, but Amy's always been a little naïve. I don't have the time nor the patience to put up an act for her.

Her smile slides off. "Gray, the only way to make it through this is to continue the jokes. To continue practicing the little gestures and comments. Maybe that way, we'll stay..." she gulps. "We'll stay human. I don't want to kill anybody. I don't want to hurt the few animals that survived. I don't wanna forget what life used to be like, what my family-" Amy cuts off.

"Stop it. Don't think like that. You'll dehydrate yourself, and that's the last thing your body needs." She nods and falls back onto my shoulder, too tired to protest.

I lean up against the air vent and look around. Jack's staring at us, crouching by the ledge with a broken pipe in his hand. He cocks his head and glares at me questioningly, and I let out a low growl, embarrassed that he watched me and defensive because he's judging me.

I check to make sure Amy's asleep, then turn my gaze back on him. He's clearly waiting for some sort of explanation, but I don't know what I did.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that? I didn't do anything wrong, I was keeping her healthy. I know I should have comforted her, but we can't take the risk of her getting sick, and I—"

He cuts me off. "I was going to ask why you are crying."

My breath catches in my scratched throat. I didn't realize... I lift a hand to my cheek and grimace. My hand pulls away wet, the brown, reddish water glinting off the pale moonlight. My hand itself looks ghostly. I shift uncomfortably and plunge my hands into the thin, ripped jacket Bree gave me earlier.

"I love this kid like a sister. If something happens and we can't help her... well, she deserves life more than I do. I have to be there for her."

He's silent, not moving, his eyes straying from my defensive stance to Amy's peaceful, childish form.

"Say something, Jack. I'm not in the mood to be judged, and I was doing the right thing."

"Can we even be sure what the right thing to do is anymore? We can't trust others, we have to kill. We can't get food unless we steal. So is keeping a dying girl really the right thing to do?"

I freeze, my jaw dropping in horror. He can't be serious. I gently but swiftly nudge Amy off my shoulder, then lung at him. There is only a split second for him to blink in surprise before I tackle him. Yanking the pipeout of his grip, I bring it down against his neck, making sure the sharp, broken side is just barely pushing against the soft skin under his jaw.

"That 'dying girl' is one of the best signs of humanity left. She's more useful than you could ever be, you cowardly, insolent traitor!" I hiss, my knees digging into his bruised side as my hands push down on the pipe.

I let my hair fall into his eyes, my full weight crushing him. He twitches, the only sign of pain before he does something that shocks me to my core.

The twerp smiles.

It's enough of a surprise that I'm left helpless as he rolls me off of him, dropping the pipe with a clatter. Colin sits up, and Bree comes trudging out from behind a brick divider.

"Relax, Click. I was just seeing what you would do. I'm pretty good at reading people, but you were hard to figure out. Normally you seem like a pious introvert who thinks she's better than the rest of us. I couldn't be sure what's an act and what isn't."

I ignore the insult. "Click?"

"Yeah. Cause you tend to change your attitude like this." He demonstrates by snapping his fingers in a click.

Bree clears her throat. It snaps me out of my trance and I get up, walking over to examine the pile she collected.

"See? That's what I mean. You totally could have gotten mad again and gone for a punch but you didn't. You weren't even mad at the insult. You act like you don't have feelings, but you do! Why do you hide them?" Jack pressed, calling at me as I walked away.

 _I could say the same to you, Cruiser_. I whip back around, pretending not to be startled that he's an inch away.

"Because this is war. I can't trust an infuriating pretty boy who thinks he has the right to put people's lives in danger for his irrelevant experiments." I snap, grateful he gave me an opportunity to tell him just exactly what I think of him.

He grins and leans over to my ear, sending hot shivers down my spine.

"Daw, you think I'm pretty. I'm flattered Click, but don't you think we should keep this professional?"

I turn back around, avoiding Bree, avoiding Colin, to just walk stiffly over to the pile of broken pipes and shards of glass and plastic. I pick a piece of glass shaped kind of like a knife and shove it into my belt loop, then grab a wickedly curved pole with jagged cuts at the end.

"Jack, get some rest. All of you, we have a big day full of dangers waiting to kill us tomorrow. I'll keep first watch." I said.

Without listening to their protests, I climb up the three rungs that lead to the higher platform, just above the entrance of the roof. I lean up against my pipe and look out across the flooded street, the crumbled buildings and the floating cars. The last thing I hear before the drugs of sleep kidnap my crew is a low pitched chuckle from a certain pretty boy.

"Well, would you look at that; I think Click just made herself our leader."


	7. Chapter 7

**Hadley: 7**

We constructed our plan. First, we would look for survivors. Ben and Kyle would take downstairs while I went with Asher and Oliver to search upstairs. Then we would go to the locker rooms and get some extra clothes. It would get really cold in a few nights, even if we were in Texas. Finally, we would get food from the cafeteria, also stopping in the nurses' office for medical supplies. All the while, we would look for potential weapons.

Before we left, we emptied our backpacks, keeping anything we found essential to our survival. We stuffed our food portions into our lunch boxes and divided the stakes Ben made among us. I had to admit, Ben did do a pretty good job at those. Perhaps a _too_ good of job.

"Okay," I said, throwing my backpack onto my shoulders. "Everyone knows the plan. We meet by the locker rooms."

Everyone nodded. "Okay, then," I said. "Let's go."

We moved towards the door, the boys having already moved the cabinet out of the way. For a second, everyone stood, facing the door. I wondered what we were waiting for, but then I realized they were just waiting for someone to open the door.

That's when I felt the tension in the room, the fear of what we would find outside. I looked at each one of their faces, the boys all stilled in fear. Oliver was the only one who looked back at me, his blue eyes serious.

"I'll open it," he said, sending me a small, tight lipped grin.

I shook my head, suddenly dizzy. "No," I said. "It's okay."

He sent me a curt nod and stood back, waiting along with everyone else. With a deep breath, I held my stake ready in my hand, my other hand on the door handle.

With one last glance over my shoulder at the boys, I hesitantly opened the door.

I exhaled, the door swinging open. As soon as it did, some left over water pooling outside flooded in, soaking us up to our knees. The water was cold, so cold it was like a slap in the face. All of my dreariness was gone now.

Sloshing through the water, I take one step outside of the door, and a feeling of liberation floods through me. I was in that practice room for two and a half hours. Finally getting out of it was freeing.

I took a deep breath before I looked into the hall, but I immediately wished I hadn't. For as I inhaled, I caught a whiff of sewage, salty ocean water, and _death_. I shivered.

Behind me, I heard my friends cough on the smell too. It was pungent, and I had a feeling that it would stick with me even after we left the school.

Clenching my stomach as if to ready myself, I finally peer into the hall, and as I did I realized that there is no way I could've readied myself for that.

I gasped shakily, panicking. Frantic, I turn back into the room, slamming the door closed behind my back. I braced myself against the back of it, breathing heavily like a dog.

"Hadley, what is it?" Kyle asked, moving towards me in worry. Oliver was right next to him, and everyone looked at me questioningly.

I shook my head, gulping. My lips fumbled for something to say, but they were quivering too much. Tears started streaming down my face, and I was embarrassed that I was crying in front of them when I was supposed to be the leader.

"Don't," I finally whimpered. "Don't go out there."

"What's out there?" asked Oliver, coming closer.

I shook my head again, clenching my eyes shut. But as soon as they were closed, the images were flashing behind my eyes. The stench, the goriness, the _bodies_. Oh, all of the bodies. My eyes snapped open.

"I'll go first," Oliver said. He gently grabbed my shoulders, moving me out of the way.

"No!" I shouted at him. I wanted to stop him, but it was almost like I was paralyzed, wanting to move and barely able to speak. Kyle held me back. "Oliver, stop!"

"It's okay," he said. "I'll be right back."

Before I could stop him, Oliver opened the door, and he was gone. I breathed out, my head falling into my hand.

"Hadley, what was out there?" asked Asher, coming over to me.

I looked up at him, a certain body coming to mind. I shake my head. "Asher," I said. " _You_ _cannot_ go out there."

"That's it," Asher said. "I'm going out there."

I throw my hands up in exaggeration. "Are you kidding me? I just told you to not go out there!"

Asher shrugged. "Which is why I'm going."

Finally being able to feel my limbs, I ran to the door, throwing myself in front of it. "No!" I said. "I am the leader and I say no!"

"You let Oliver go out there," Austin pointed out. "Is it because you like him?"

I paled. "I... It's-its... No, okay. Just don't go out there!"

"You like Oliver?" Kyle said, looking betrayed. I rolled my eyes at him. He was unbelievable.

"Nobody leaves!" I said. "Not now!"

Suddenly, there is a knock on the door at my back. I move aside and Oliver walks in, his face drained of blood.

"Oliver!" Asher said. "What's out there?"

Oliver gulped, shaking his head. "It's bad," he said.

"But what is it?" Kyle demanded, angrily poking Oliver in the chest.

"Whoa," I said, stepping between them. "If you guys want to know what's out there, look for yourselves. But you have been warned."

Asher shrugged. "Fine."

He opened the door, walking out. I trailed behind him, the other three behind me.

I heard Asher with a sharp intake of breath, looking at the bodies pouring out into the hallway. The water must've dragged them out.

Behind me, I heard someone vomit, probably Kyle. Glancing over my shoulder, I find that I was right. Ben stood regarding the bodies, impassive. And Oliver stood next to me, his eyes wide and sunken in his pale face.

There had to be at least one hundred bodies in the hallway, and I knew more than half of them. By the looks on their faces, I knew that the guys did too.

I watched as Asher walked over his friends, now bloated and dead. And as I saw him reach the one person I hoped he wouldn't, I resisted the urge to comfort him.

His eyes fell upon her face, seeing her lifeless brown eyes lazily open. Asher make a sound from the back of his throat, like a strangled cry.

He sunk to his knees, falling beside Delia. He softly whimpered, and I actually saw tears on his face. I never imagined that Asher, so seemingly heartless, would care.

Oliver stepped forward as if he was going to comfort him, but I grabbed his arm, pulling him back. With a silent shake of my head, Oliver got the message and he replied with a nod. _He needs some time_.

Trying to distract myself, I noticed that the practice room next to ours had its door closed. Suspicious, I walked towards it, forcing back the vomit as I stepped over a few bodies.

I just assumed that the water would've knocked every door open, if it didn't knock it off of its hinges. So as I walked over to open the door, I was surprised that it was still there and closed.

Entering the room, I'm surprised with what I see. Saxophones, two of them, lying carelessly on the floor as if they had been thrown. I vaguely recall the band director telling Jack and Colin to go practice across the hall. But if they were in there, then wouldn't we have seen their bodies?

"What is it?" Oliver asked, walking in behind me.

I shook my head, crouching down in the high water to examine the carpet. "It's not molded," I noted as I got donw on my knees, the water coming up to my chest. "The water just got in here."

"What does that mean?" Oliver asked, wading through the water to stand next to me.

I stand up, my clothes now soaked. "Someone is alive," I said. "Or _someones_ are alive. They must've just left."

"Colin and Jack," Oliver said. "Those are their saxophones."

"I have a feeling they weren't the only ones in here," I said, looking around curiously. "Come on. Let's follow through with the plan."

We walk out into the hall again. Kyle was walking among the bodies, checking everyone's faces. I was tempted to do the same, but I knew what I'd find, and I wasn't too eager to see my friends turned over and dead.

Ben walked through them too, unflinching. I wondered if he just didn't care, or if he was just in shock.

Asher stood off to the side, completely unresponsive. He didn't wear contacts today, for his glasses were crooked on his bright red nose, his pale blue eyes watery. His arms were crossed, leaning against the wall.

Oliver looked at Asher with a pained expression, but forced a smile for his sake. "Asher! Good news. We're pretty sure Jack and Colin are alive."

Asher shrugged, not meeting his eyes. "So?"

Oliver looked taken aback by his reply, furrowing his eyebrows. "Our-our friends. They're alive."

"But most of them are dead," Asher said, still not looking at anything. Just blankly staring at the floor. Then suddenly, he pushed away from the wall, sniffling and wiping his eyes. "Whatever, man. Let's just get out of here."

"We got downstairs," Kyle confirmed, sending me a nod.

I nod back. "See you in the locker rooms."

I follow Oliver and Asher towards the stairs, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't help but look at the floor. I swallowed back the vomit, instantly feeling dizzy, as I spotted Kelly, Ellie, and all of the people I used to call my friends.

"Let's...keep moving," Oliver said, also sick. He noticed that I was struggling, though, and distracted himself by helping me.

Upstairs, we didn't find anything except more bodies. However, I did find a few yardsticks, and I figured that Ben could whittle us some spears. I also found two cans of pepper spray in the purses of some single cat-crazy teachers. I didn't feel as guilty taking it since I didn't know them.

"Let's go," I said. "The other two should be in the locker rooms by now."

We used the staircase by Mrs. Cameron's room to get to the locker rooms quicker. We found Ben and Kyle waiting for us outside.

"Girls locker room first," I said. "We'll probably find more stuff in there."

I go to push open the locker room door, but as I enter, I realize that the guys are hesitant to follow. "What?"

"We can't go in there," Asher said, blushing.

I planted my hands on my hips. "And why not?"

Oliver shrugged, looking at his feet bashfully. "It's the _girls_ locker room."

I groan. "Fine. Whatever. I'll check in here and you guys check the boys locker room."

"No," Kyle said, stepping forward. "You can't go in there alone. I'll come with you."

"He's right," Oliver said, suddenly changing his mind. "I'll come too."

Asher, looking at Ben with a wary expression, gulped and nodded. "I'm coming too."

"Hey! Idea time: Let's just all go!" I suggested with an eye roll.

Inside the locker room, we found loads of extra clothes. There were mostly gym shorts and t-shirts and sweats, but in a few lockers there were changes of outfits. I entered my combination and grabbed my athletics bag, stuffing it full of stuff. I felt somewhat reassured in having my own things with me. But I still swipde another bag to get more items from other lockers, just encase. And, with a small frown, I discreetly stuffed tampons from the machine in the bathroom into my bag, hoping the boys didn't notice.

The guys also had their shopping spree in their locker room. By the end of our trip, we were loaded down with duffel bags. We each carried at least two, but it was fine by me as long as we had materials.

In the cafeteria, my suspicions about another group surviving were furthered. We found most of the food already cleared out, only a few more meals left. We wrapped it all up and stuffed it in our backpacks, glad that we had something.

In the nurses office, there were also little supplies left. I loaded up on what was left, packing some stitching needles and gauze and things.

And then, finally, we left the school. The front doors were shattered, so we carefully climbed through the frame, stepping out onto the pavement. But as my foot hit the ground, I realized that we had nowhere to go.

"Where to now?" Asher asked, his tone more glum than its usual derogatory self.

I shrug. "Somewhere safe."

"Where are we safe?" Kyle asked, shivering against the brisk wind.

"Probably the city, or someplace with people who can help," I say.

"There's only one city I can think of near here."

"Then let's do it," Oliver said, a careless look in his eyes. "Let's hike to Houston."


	8. Chapter 8

**Gray: 8**

By the time they wake up the next morning, I've already divided the food rations. Colin told me to wake him up, but I could tell he was wiped out, and there was no way I was getting sloppy with watches, especially during night.

The gangs around here are getting more and more violent, and high school kids have been joining, which doubles the number of immature, blind idiots running around robbing people.

I can tell my crew is surprised that I'm awake. The truth is a little unsettling. I've had insomnia for a few weeks now, ever since the power went out. Once the nightmares left, all I could do was sit. The dark was calming. It still is. I can't ever let them know, but from now on I have to be the one looking out at all times. I have to be there for them. That's the only way this will work.

So when Jack decided to try and steal a few more piles of food than allowed, I attacked. Jumping to my feet, I sweep the pole under his feet, knocking him down. The food goes flying, hitting Bree in the face and Colin in the gut.

Amy's already up, picking out her weapons; but she too turns around with unsurprised eyes.

Jack groans as he sits up. "Is this gonna be our thing now? Literally sweeping each other off of our feet? Cause if so we need a new stereotype, sweetheart."

I reach over him and grab the food, putting it back into organization. I have to answer him without showing how annoyed I am. I can't let the others see the tension, or else they'll feel it too. And that's too much on a dehydrated, overworked body.

"I am not your sweetheart. I doubt I ever will be. That food was not yours to take, and if you want to stay with us, you have to play by the rules."

"What rules, Click? Like you said earlier, this is war. There are no rules."

"There are in this group. That's what will keep us together."

"I agree with Gray." Colin says, raising his hand. Amy turns to smile at him. I squint as I watch his grimy features light up under her gaze. His entire body seems to grow, his confidence bursting at the seams.

"What if I don't want to stay in the group?" Jack ponders.

Bree laughs. "You can't be serious. Ever seen an apocalypse movie? The loners never make it."

"I am serious."

"Well then what are you still here for?" I planted my hand on my hips in annoyance.

"You tell me, Click."

I let myself really get a good look at him. The light hits strands of his dark curls, falling over his forehead, framing his huge eyes. The eyes full of charm and life. As he shifts a little, the light glints off his chocolate irises, literally making them sparkle.

As he puts his hands on his hips, I watch his shoulder muscles roll and stretch, his lean chest tighten. The shirt is form fitting, not leaving much to the imagination. He juts his hip out to the side, and I blink, startled.

Then I realize he's copying me, mocking me. I was about to yell at him but then I realized that he was asking me a question. I was too busy staring...

"Click?"

I snap out of my daze. "For the record, you've never swept me off my feet. So it's not our stereotype."

He grins at my comeback, and my heart trips over a big rock in the road, tumbling down and down until it lands hard in my stomach. I shake myself and mentally shove my heart back into its cage.

"Alright everyone. What's our plan?" Bree tries to change the subject. I can tell by the look in her wide eyes that she could tell what was happening between the group.

Amy stretches her hand in the air, practically bouncing with excitement.

"We could rob a gun shop!"

Silence stretches and then brakes.

"Why on earth would we want to intentionally rob a place with weapons? Guns? They could fire at us? What are you thinking? Are you feeling alright?" It doesn't matter who said what, we all said about the same thing at once.

She isn't even phased. She scoffs and flicks her hand at us. "Of course, other than my arm I'm doing great. Don't worry about me. And the idea is smart. As long as we come up with the right approach, we could totally win. We would be protected."

"How many of us here actually know how to handle a gun?" Colin ask nervously.

I speak up, growing to the idea. "I do, and Amy's one of the best her age. Even if only two of us have some, we're more prepared than others."

"No way do you know how to use a gun." Jack smirks, folding his arms. I curse at myself for staring at those arms, those lean, fit...

"She does, and she can prove it. She also has the best aim, and can slay at airsoft." Amy all but spits at him. Her praise boosts me up a little, and I turn to him.

"I wouldn't lie about something like that, okay? So now that you know I can work a gun, try not to get on my nerves."

"Ain't gonna happen Click. It's too much fun."

Bree speaks up, saving the group from potential violence yet again.

"Okay, moving on from the love-fest. Let's figure out a way to pull this off."


	9. Chapter 9

**Hadley: 9**

We walked about four miles, nearing our local Walmart. It took us all day, the sky already dark. We would've reached there quicker if it weren't for us having to constantly hide to stay away from gangs that roamed the streets.

That night, we were all almost dying of thirst. I was a bit of a stickler with the seven water bottles that we found left in the cafeteria, not wanting us to run out. But when we set up camp in a stranded minivan on the road, I allowed everyone a few sips.

Asher thought he was being funny when he put me in the front seat, claiming that it was a leader thing. He, of course, claimed the seats in the third row for himself, stretching out his long legs. Kyle and Ben crashed in the middle row, both of them instantly passing out. That left Oliver in the passenger seat, and he curled up on his side to face the window.

I heard Asher awake in the back, breathing with a stopped up nose like he was crying. It pained me to think that he probably was. Even though I hated him, I pitied him. I could only imagine what he was going through. He probably felt like he had to sustain his tough-guy act, which made it that much harder on him.

I knew that Oliver was awake. His shoulders moved up and down unsteadily, inhaling and exhaling unevenly. I leaned back against my seat, watching him. The way his back muscles tensed, how his hair was slicked over in the particular way he liked it, his arms and how he had them wrapped about himself-

Suddenly he turned, flipping around to face me. Our eyes met, and he gave me a small smile.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" he asked, cuddling in on himself in the cold night air. That hoodie seemed too thin.

Reaching down by my feet, I fetched an oversized jacket that I found in a girls locker, tossing it to him. I used one as a blanket for myself.

"Thank you," he said, snuggling up with it. Warmer now, he unfolded his legs, stretching them out over the dashboard. "Why aren't you asleep?" he asked again.

I shrugged, my teeth chattering as I replied. "S-Someone h-has tttto take watch."

"I will," he said. He then furrowed his eyebrows, seeing my freezing state. "Are you cold?"

"Nope," I replied sarcastically. "Toasty warm over here."

A smile tugged at the corners of Oliver's lips as he reached down by his feet, throwing me a sweatshirt from his bag. "Thanks," I said, pulling it on over my three layers. As I wiggled into it, a whiff of nice cologne swept over my nose, just the right amount to where it didn't suffocate me or to where I couldn't smell it at all.

"Who did this belong to?" I ask, my tone hollow as I thought about a handsome-smelling boy, overturned in the school somewhere with water in every orifice of his body.

"It's mine," Oliver said, his voice husky and his face shadowy in the dark of night.

"Oh," I replied, butterflies tickling my stomach. "Thank you."

"I can take first watch," Oliver said, the hood of his jacket shading half of his face, making him look dreary. "I won't get any sleep anyways."

I shake my head. "It's okay," I said. "I'd really prefer it that I didn't sleep either."

"Then we'll both watch," he said lightly.

"Okay," I said, the idea of staying awake with him making my heart leap.

It's silent for a few moments. In the back, I could've sworn I heard chuckling, presumably Asher, that smug bastard. I might've pitied him, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't piss me off when he's eavesdropping. I decided that when I spoke to Oliver again, it would be in a whisper.

"Do you think that this is the right thing to do?" I said quietly, pitching my voice lower so that no one in the back could hear. "To go to Houston?"

Oliver shrugged, his blue eyes, pale in the moonlight, gazing into mine. "What else is there to do?"

"Go home," I said in a whisper, except my words came out softer and it wasn't because of Asher. It was because I was scared about the idea of home, and what it was now.

Oliver was thinking the same thing. "I don't think there is a home to go to. There's no way our houses could've survived that storm. _We_ shouldn't of even survived it."

I knew he was right, but it still hurt to hear him say it out loud. "What about our families?"

When Oliver answered, his voice cracked. "Dead, I guess."

"And that doesn't sadden you?" I asked, noticing that my cheeks were wet. "It doesn't _scare the crap_ out of you?"

"Sure it does," Oliver said, his face now hidden in darkness. "It's terrifying. My mom, dad, brother-my whole family, dead."

His tone was flat. The way his expression was so unreadable was scaring me. "Of course they're dead," I spoke, more to myself than him. "But that isn't what scares me. It's how alone we are. And this isn't even the worst of it. This is only the second wave. Who knows what they have in store for us?"

I shivered, not only because I was cold, but because my imagination was too gory.

"Nobody does," Oliver said. "But it doesn't matter. Because whatever happens, we're not alone. All five of us survived for a reason."

That was the most Oliver has ever said to me, and it was also the most profound. I was suddenly grateful that I wasn't alone in a car full of imbeciles. For Oliver wasn't _completely_ idiotic. He was actually pretty pleasant. He was always so shy... Some days I wondered whether I'd be lucky enough to hear his voice.

"And I wouldn't have it any other way."

•••

I ended up dozing off. Oliver's low, smooth voice rocked me to sleep, and eventually even the idea of having a conversation with him couldn't keep me awake.

At first, I didn't see anything. My dreams were as clear as Oliver's eyes were before I drifted off. But it wasn't long before the nightmare kicked in, my reason to fear sleep turning into reality.

The bodies. So many of them, literally floating into my vision. I was back in that hallway, except this time, I really was alone. You know, besides the dead people.

Hundreds and hundreds of bodies, all piled on top of each other, and all of them motionless. They waded in the small amount of water, pooling around my knees.

I looked at each face, my breathing becoming heavier and heavier. It felt like someone was taking a large piece of wall and slowly pressing it down on my chest, making me feel so tiny.

The wall suddenly became too much to bare as I recognized a familiar face, one I spent so much time staring at every day because I never had to guts to talk to him. Right at my feet, Oliver laid face up, his hair that he always made sure was in place all messed up and his blue eyes so empty and colorless.

I wanted to scream, but it was like my throat was strained, only a whimper falling out. The pressure too much, I fell to my knees, the icy water hugging me around my waist.

I sobbed and splashed, pushing at the water. _Go away!_ I wanted to shout. _You did this! Go away_!

Suddenly in my thrashing tantrum, my hands skimmed over a body, and I jumped away. I snatched my hand up only to find that who my fingers landed upon was yet another familiar face, one I knew even better.

I had touched my mom, her face as white as milk but her lips as red as blood. But with closer inspection, I realized that it actually was blood, coating her mouth.

I cried out again, my hand flying over my mouth in horror. My eyes drifted away from her still form only to land on my dad, floating in the deathly water next to her. Not far from him was my sister, and next to her, my brother: one big, deceased family.

Except the family wasn't complete. Not yet, anyways.

I scooted away, trying desperately to get away, to run far from everything. I thought that if I didn't see it, it wouldn't be true.

Except it was like walking through quicksand, the rising water filled with bodies holding me back. I continued to run against it, though, loud sobs shaking my body and breaking me down slowly, bit by bit.

Then I saw it: the end of the hallway. A stream of sunlight illuminated the opening, beckoning me over. With all of my might, I took my last ounce of strength and pumped my legs, lunging for it.

I was almost there. It was so close. I stretched my hand out towards it, reaching and reaching and reaching.

But right as my hand was warmed by the light, I was suddenly grabbed by the shoulder, a grayish hand wrapping around me. I screamed, whipping around.

And I was face to face with the whole school, and much more. Everyone I've ever loved, known, and called my friend, all of them reaching out towards me.

And like I shouted at the water, they shouted at me. _You did this_! Their whispery screams yelled. _Go away!_

I turned back towards the light, trying to escape again. But it was like a barrier was holding me back, preventing me from moving. Wildly looking for another exit, my eyes fall upon the back door.

The glass on it was already busted, the doors hanging on its hinges. I sighed in relief, and then started towards it. As I moved, the claws of the dead grabbed at me, tugging at my arms and clothes and trying to bring me down with them.

I was again, almost at my destination, when something bad happened. Except this time, it was worse. For as I looked through the back door, staring into my destiny, a big black wave rolled in.

It hurled at me, unrelenting and merciless. I considered turning on my heel and trying the hallway again, but I knew there was no point. Everyone supposedly dead, trying to hold me down, was already there. I had nothing to try for. There was no reason to keep going.

So with arms spread wide open, I closed my eyes, exhaling in acceptance as the 2nd wave washed over me.

•••

"Hadley!" I heard someone shouting. "Hadley, wake up!"

As I slowly came to, I felt a grip on my shoulders, instantly pushing it away. I shimmied and cried out, remembering how the gray, lifeless hands grabbed me.

"Stop!" I wailed. "Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!"

"Hadley, calm down," the voice said calmly. "Hadley, look at me!"

Still in denial, I shook my head crazily, thrashing. But then the hands moved up to grab my face, and they didn't feel hard and stiff like the hands of the dead. Instead they were steady and smooth.

I opened my eyes, immediately being met by the blue ones that were so blank moments ago. Oliver had his hands on my cheeks, his eyes wide as he stared at me in worry.

"Wha-" I gasped, my throat dry. To my left, Kyle comes into view, holding a bottle of water.

"It's okay," Oliver said. "It was just a nightmare."

I shake my head, folding in on myself and crying as the scene came flooding back. A sob racks my throat, my whole body quivering.

"It felt so real," I cried, afraid to look at Oliver in fear that I'd find that he wasn't actually here, that he was lying dead somewhere in that hallway.

"Hadley, you're burning up," Oliver said, using the back of his hand to feel my cheek. "Are you feeling alright?"

"No!" I spat. "No, I'm not!"

Oliver pulled away, letting Kyle come closer to give me water. But the idea of water made me sick, and I pushed him away.

"Well," Asher said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "You woke all of us up."

"Oh, shut up," Oliver said harshly, a tone I've never heard him take with Asher. He never talked back to Asher. Like, ever."Just go back to sleep. Leave her alone."

No one questioned him. Instead, everyone returned to their seats.

I curled up to the window, clutching at my makeshift blanket to try and stop my uncontrollable shaking. I didn't go back to sleep, though, and I had the feeling that I wouldn't for a few days.


	10. Chapter 10

**Gray: 10**

"This is a terrible idea." I say, shaking my head.

"Do you have a better plan?" I didn't.

"You could get killed. Or beaten. Or..."

"That's gonna happen anyways, Click."

I lose my train of thought and glare at Amy for using the nickname. She smiles peevishly then turns to Colin, who's spreading ketchup around Amy's real wound to look like blood.

"You ready to act?"

A small smile lit up on his face as he looked up at her. I almost groan at the blush that spreads on her cheeks.

'Who's acting?" He said. She laughed, and he helped her to her feet. Well, foot.

We sacrificed some of the gauze to wrap on Amy's leg, so she could appear even more injured. Colin puts her arm around his shoulder, and with a grimace and groan, she stumbles a bit before sagging against him, heavily favoring her leg.

A loud clap sounds behind me, along with a deep rumble of laughter that made my stomach twist. I clench my fists, looking back at Amy, letting all the worry seep into my eyes.

"You're the most vulnerable member of the team. Why are you agreeing to do this and put yourself out in the open?" I ask, but she just shakes her head.

I'm so frustrated at her blatant disregard for her own safety that I actually jump when Jack's fingers close around my curled fist. He pulls my hand behind me, massaging the fingers open. A ripple of electricity shoots up my arm.

"Why so tense, Click? You need to relax, you aren't gonna change her mind anytime soon. And I am more than willing to help you lighten up." He whispers, his warm breath against my neck.

At least, that's what he tried to do. I pull my hand forwards, then kick my elbow up into his chest in one swift movement. He coughs and stumbles back.

"Alright. Since everyone seems to be against their better judgment on this, I have no choice but to agree. This is one of the few stores still open, and I can promise there will be other people there, most likely hungry and willing to kill to get what they need. Bree and I will be covering for you, and Jack will be on lookout for any gangs or bored policemen. Got it?" They nod and I let myself preen a little, proud of my speech.

"Then let's go!" Bree all but shouts, holding up her fist.

The door clangs open with the sound of a bell, bring nostalgia for what used to be.

I narrow my eyes at Colin's arm clenched a little too tightly around Amy's waist as they hobble in, with him gasping for help.

I readjust my grip on the pole and glance over at Bree. She's to my right, perched in a small tree. Jack's casually leaning up against the traffic stop, checking his fingernails. I roll my eyes and turn back to the store.

Inside, the store manager comes out behind the counter, rubbing oiled hands on a grime covered camo-shirt. I watch his expression go from suspicious to panicked when he sees the blood.

He calls to someone in the back, and then goes to help Amy onto the counter. Her arm jostles against the case and the scream cuts through me. I don't realize I'm moving until Jack pulls me back. My eyes are glued to her, so worried I can't breathe.

There was only supposed to be one person inside, one threat. Not two. Colin doesn't know combat, and Amy is injured

Amy chooses this moment to fling her glass at the burly man's arm. He freezes in surprise, and Colin jumps over the counter to tackle him. Jack runs past me, using his pipe to kick the door open. I bolt after him, adrenaline rushing through me.

Inside the store, Jack and Colin are tying the unconscious man up with more gauze, but I don't even have the time to be depressed.

At that moment, the other person appears in the doorway. But it's not another man. It's a teenage girl.

"Dad!" she screeches, looking at our crew with wide eyes. Then she notices the giant body on the floor. She backs away, starting to sob.

I relax my stance and walk towards her, mentally putting on kid gloves.

"Look, we just need some supplies. We'll let your dad go if you let us get what we need peacefully, ok? We don't want to hurt you." I say as I put my hand on her shoulder. She nods and covers her tear bitten cheeks with broken nails. I smile at her, then turn to my group to tell them to get what they need.

The next thing I know my head is crashing through the glass counter as the girl pounces on me. I let out a yell as my hair becomes matted with blood from glass shards. Twisting sideways, I throw the girl off me and land on top of her on the ground. She snarls at me, and I take in a quick breath when I see her eyes. They look like mine from months ago, when I got pink eye.

They're blood red, with discharge flowing out as the seconds tick by.

As I stare at her, caught off guard, she has the time to yank her arm out from under my leg to connect it with my chin. My head snaps back, but I catch sight of my pole next to me. I grab it and push hard down on her neck, vaguely going through déjà vu.

She only fights back harder, but my thighs press into her stomach, slowly pushing the air out of her lungs. I grit my teeth and push harder as her hands reach out to claw at my face. This has to end. In one swift movement, I push off my shins to land again on her, this time with my knee on her sternum. The cracking sound echoes throughout the store, and my team turns from their backpacks to see the girl go limp, her hands falling above her head, my skin under her nails and her body broken from my hands.

I pull myself off the ground, brushing myself off before the world goes blurry.

My last view is Colin's horrified face as Bree catches me from landing in the glass pile.

•••

The throbbing wakes me up.

I blink the sleep out of my eyes and try to sit up, quickly realizing that was the stupidest thing I could've done.

Amy's face hovers over me, and I feel a trickle of water flow onto my forehead.

"Hey, it's okay, just relax, I'm washing your hair."

Jack's face appears next to hers, peering at me with a grin.

"That's for sure. Click, you look sexy as a redhead." I don't say anything, just stare at him, confused.

Amy explains nervously. "There's so much blood, you look like Ginny Weasley."

I try out my voice. "We need that water, don't use it on me. Once I sit up and get a little food, I'll be fine. Can I have some help?" Amy tries to protest, but Jack's already pulling me all the way to my feet. I grunt and stumble as my world decides to start spinning in the wrong direction.

"Wow Click, that chick really clocked you." Jack laughs as I fall onto his chest. I weakly try to pull away, but he wraps his arms around my waist, securing me there. Shuddering, I glare up at him and he laughs again, the rumble jostling me.

"You can let me go now, Cruiser."

'Wouldn't dream of it. Not when I have such a good view." I squint in confusion, finally taking in our surroundings.

We're on another roof, and I realize it's Walmart. How'd we get here? Someone must've carried me—I grimace at the thought.

The view is ugly, with overturned cars and sewage flooding the streets. I look back up at Jack, silently demanding an explanation.

He looks out at the view and gags.

"Gah, Click. That's not what I meant." Then he pointedly looks at my face, letting his eyes wander. I push him away again, this time planting my feet so I don't fall.

"Will you stop it? We don't have time for your entertainment. I don't have the patience for this. Why is everything a game to you?"

"Is that what it looks like? You're reading me all wrong Click."

"Stop calling me that!" I growl. He sighs, and I blink in surprise as Jack Cruiser actually gives up.

"Just get some rest, okay? You've had a heck of a day." I fiddle with my drying hair as I watch his retreating back, failing to ignore the thudding beat my heart's pounding out. I feel almost disappointed he didn't have a snide comeback.

I frown in confusion, more unsure of myself than I have been in a while.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hadley: 11**

The next day was much better. I didn't get any sleep, but I was very awake, the cold morning electrifying me. But Oliver's hoodie was doing a good job at keeping me warm, the idea of it more steamy than the actual material.

We left the minivan, packing up and heading north. It was around eight o'clock in the morning, and everyone was moving like zombies. _Ha ha_. Ben was the most exhausted, but then again, he always looked like he'd pass out at any second.

We walked a mile in the damage the tsunami left, the ground wet. We managed to find a little donuts shop up the road that survived the storm for the most part, and we ate our breakfast there.

We moved at a steady pace, everyone sticking together fairly well. We walked along the side of the road, a stupid instinct even though no cars drove on it. It just felt natural, probably the most normal thing since I saw my friends dead in our school hallway.

I shuddered, pushing the thought away. Oliver, walking next to me, noticed, looking at me warily. Ever since last night, everyone was a little timid around me. And to be honest, I was timid with myself too.

As we walked, we realized that we weren't the only survivors of the storm. Strangers, strewn across the town, wondered around aimlessly, looking delusional. This told us to not approach them, no matter how much we wanted to be comforted by knowing we weren't the only ones alive.

These strangers were also coughing violently, looking deadly sick. This also told us to avoid them, even though I was pretty sure I was already sick. I felt drowsy, my head weightless on my shoulders. Every muscle in my body hurt, like my bones were slowly melting and breaking to make some sort of organ stew.

We stopped to take a break at an intersection. Turn left, we head towards the Woodlands. Turn right, and we'd be close to a water park, nearing Houston at a very slow pace.

There was a bridge over the road, and we rested under it, passing out snacks and water. We were lucky that we were in an area with an abundance of food places, because I felt like we had more than enough to keep us alive.

"So," I said, stifling a cough. "Do we still want to go to Houston, or is the Woodlands a more strategic move?"

"Strategic move towards what?" asked Asher, drawing circles with his finger in the gravel.

I shrugged. "Survi-"

I am cut off by the sharpness in my throat, a loud, violent cough escaping my mouth and burning my throat. I hacked it up, sizzling like fire. Before I continued, I grabbed a bottle and took a swig of water.

"Surviving," I finished, everyone looking at me with wide eyes. "Look, the Woodlands is a lot closer. We'd probably be there in less than two days. And it's a popular area, too. We'd surely find help there."

"Yes," Ben said almost immediately, startling us all. "The Woodlands. Great idea."

Oliver gave him a weird look, shifting uncomfortably. "I say we still go to Houston."

"Yeah, but," I said. "I just have this feeling that we should stay away from cities."

"We live in Texas," Asher pointed out. "It's basically one big city wherever we are."

"True," I said, flipping over the options in my head. I tried to think everything over, but the more I thought about it, the dizzier I got.

"Are you alright?" Kyle asked, moving closer to me.

I nod, pushing him away. "I just...I need to lie down for a minute."

I lay back against my backpack, my drainage seeming to overcome me. I felt my nose dripping, and I reached up to wipe it away with the sleeve of my "blanket". Only when I pulled the blanket away, I found that I had stained the sleeve red.

"Your nose," Oliver said. "It's bleeding."

"Sinus?" I said, but I wasn't convinced, even to myself.

"Those people, on the streets," Kyle cut in. "They looked really sick..."

"So that's the third wave," Asher concluded. "Disease."

It sounded so obvious, but I swear it was the smartest thing I've ever heard come out of his mouth. It made sense, no matter how much I refused to believe it.

I shook my head, sitting up. "No, really." I said. "I'm fi-"

I am forced to quit talking again by yet another coughing fit, except this one hurt worse. I tensed up, barking like a dog. I go to cover my mouth, and the blanket gets splattered with blood.

"Yep," Asher said. "She's sick."

"Then we go to the Woodlands," said Oliver. "It's closer. There'll be help there."

Amazing how he says that so unquestioningly when only a moment ago he was adamant about going to Houston.

"No, really," I said. "if everyone wants to go to Houston, I can make it to Houston."

Kyle shook his head. "I'm with Oliver on this. You need help."

I roll my eyes, the gesture hurting more than it used to. "Guys, I'm okay. Really."

The wind suddenly picked up, the wind tearing through my clothing and skin and chilling me to the bone. I huddled in on myself to try and shield myself from it, but that's when my eyes caught sight of the paper, drifting through the air.

I reached out and snatched the flier before it could get any further, bringing it up to my face so that I could read it. Printed in a large font across the front, the words **REFUGEE CAMP** stood out to me. I smiled, waving it at everyone.

"That settles it," I said. "We're going to Houston."


	12. Chapter 12

**Gray: 12**

The highway is abandoned. Wind cuts through, hot to the touch. I stay ahead of the group, my pistol cocked and ready, but the thought of killing someone else sends something shooting through my chest in a way I'm not comfortable with. I twitch and shift the backpack.

"Your head okay?" Jack says from behind, bending down trying to find me without his eyes. I shift away from his face and glance back around the perimeter. So when his hand wraps around mine, I can truthfully say its an accident when my pistol is shoved into his chest. He groans and stumbles back, falling onto the dirt with a cough. The others are already too far ahead for anyone to realize I've once again attacked someone. By accident.

I sigh and throw my backpack down, bending over him.

"You okay?"

"I am now," he said, smiling so wide for a second that I'm stunned enough not to register when his hands creep over my waist and—

And I'm on top of him with an unladylike grunt. He laughs and props himself up on one elbow, holding me fast with the other.

"This isn't funny, Cruiser. We need to get a move on. This—"

"Consider this your payback for beating me up." He whispered, and what happens next is seared into my mind so white-hot that it will be hard to forget. His scuffed lips twist onto mine so quickly that I don't push him away. Why am I not pushing him away?

He kisses me with pent up desire. The kiss is so hard and fierce that I'm sure it will leave a bruise. His fingers burn against my back and pull my hips down to his. I squirm, shocked that this is my first kiss.

The time to get air comes, but neither of us pull away. Jack flips me over, laying my back onto the ground. His fingers leave my spine and curl around my still-red hair, using it to pull my mouth more closely against his. I can feel shivers running down his spine, but this is insane. There's too much going on, and I'm burning up. That's when I notice I'm not the only one burning up. His forehead is pressed against mine, and it's not a healthy temperature. I shove upwards, breaking contact from our swollen lips.

"You're burning up, Jack. I think you have more than just pink eye. We need to go." I stand up, brushing off my pants.

He blinked at me. "Really, Click? That's it? No gasp, no 'I've liked you all this time?'" He says in astonishment, jumping to his feet.

I glare, and in a split second, make my decision. I deliberately and slowly wipe my hand firmly against my mouth, watching in twisted satisfaction as his face falls.

I don't know why I'm doing this. His kiss made me feel more alive than I have in weeks. I _liked_ it. I might, maybe, sort of like _him._ No, never mind that part. Not really. Not completely.

He chooses not to give up this time though, and pulls me back against him. The heat is unbearable. This kiss is shorter, but my knees betray me and still give out.

"Tell me that was nothing. Tell me that didn't make you feel anything. You're not a robot Click, and you don't have a lot of time left to stop acting like one." With that, he jogs up ahead to meet the others, who are still totally oblivious to the make-out session behind them.

I need some air. Not this dry, coarse, dusty crap my lungs are coated in. No. I need some crisp, artificial, clean air. Slugging my back-pack over my shoulder again, I turn and look for a building that's not completely trashed.

I run to the nearest open door, the Main Street America. It's barely recognizable anymore now, but the structure is still standing. There isn't any air conditioning, but shade will be good enough for now. I run and run and run to the smallest, cleanest room in the place; the bathroom. I shut a stall, and, finally feeling safe that no one will hear me, scream as loud as I possibly can.

I scream at my parents, who abandoned me without wanting too. I scream at the government for not being prepared. I scream at the stupid people who had to ruin our world like this. I scream at confusion. I scream at Amy, for being cheerful when nothing is right. I scream at Jack, for messing with my head and confusing me.

I scream at myself, punching the stall door with all my might. I scream because I don't recognize the face in the mirror, and that's the scariest thing in the world.

But… not for long. Because when my voice is gone, and my throat is bleeding, I turn to find a pair of ice-cold eyes staring right back at me.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hadley: 13**

We found a nice SUV to stay in that night. Only this time, I didn't get the leader's seat. Oliver convinced Asher to give me the back seats, my condition having become worse throughout the day. I practically dove into the seats, blood from my nose immediately staining the leather.

No matter how much I refused to sleep, Oliver made sure I did. Kyle force-fed me some Benadryl we found at the nurse's, ignoring my protests. The two of them were unbelievable, becoming the most nagging doctors.

"I'm fine," I said as Oliver gave me his blanket. "Really!"

"You're cold," he said, sitting at my feet.

"So are you," I said.

He shrugged. "I'm not sick."

"Neither am I," I said, but it was no use. For as I said the words, a trickle of blood from my nose landed on my lips.

Oliver simply grabbed the hem of the blanket, reaching over to clean up my nose. I scrunched it up in disgust, leaning away from him.

"I can do that," I said, taking the blanket from him. He sat back, looking down at me as I wiped. "What?" I asked harshly, his eyes gazing over me.

Oliver shyly averted his gaze, turning to look out the window instead. It was only eight o'clock, but I could see the bags prominent on his cheekbones. We traveled pretty far today, and he stayed up all night last night. I could only imagine how tired he was.

"I'm sorry," I spoke out, causing him to look over at me. "That was mean. I, uh, really appreciate you looking out for me."

Oliver shrugged modestly, bashfully looking at his hands. "I don't want you to die."

"I'm not going to die," I said, suppressing a small cough. "Not if I have anything to do about it."

"It might not be enough," Oliver mumbled, and I didn't know what to say to that, so I didn't say anything.

We sit silently for a moment, me holding the jacket up to my nose and Oliver looking out of the window. If somebody told me a week ago that I'd be lying in the backseat of and SUV with Oliver, I would've though that they were crazy. But here I was, my feet in his lap and his hoodie on my back.

Suddenly, breaking the silence, a raspy cough pierces the air. Except it didn't come from me.

At the same time, Oliver and I shot up, looking around the car. "Who was that?" I croaked. "Who coughed?"

From the front seat, I could see Asher lazily raise a hand. "Chill," he said. "It was just a tickle."

I sighed in relief, falling back against the seats again. The thought of someone else sick only made me feel worse.

Oliver was relieved to, both of us taking a deep breath. But after our relief wore off, he cleared his throat, awkwardly patting my leg.

"I'm going to bed," he said, smiling slightly at the "bed" part. "Well, the front seat."

I nodded and moved out of his way, letting him climb over the middle row. "Goodnight," I told him.

He glanced over his shoulder at me, that little half-grin showing. "Good night."

He turned to climb back over, but as if remembering something, he hesitated, looking back at me again. "Do me a favor," he said. "And make it through the night."

Oliver climbed over and hopped into the front seat, curling up, facing the window. I noticed that he liked to do that, these past two nights that I've seen him sleep.

Except I knew that Oliver wouldn't sleep. And why he refused to, I didn't know. But I was going to find out.

Even if it was the last thing I did.

•••

We couldn't find any food for breakfast, so we ate what we had stored in our lunch kits. Well, the boys ate. I felt too nauseous to even think about eating.

We sat in a Nissan while they ate. It wasn't that cold this morning, only in the sixties. But it felt like the thirties to me, every part of my body feeling weak.

I was in the backseat between Kyle and Ben, my eyelids feeling heavy. I let them close, taking a small little rest since I knew how much walking we had ahead of us.

A cough is what woke me up. My eyes flew open, looking around for the source. In the front seat, Asher was hunched over, wheezing and hacking up blood all over the dashboard.

"Asher," I gasped in dismay, staring at him in horror. "You're sick."

His fit died down, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth and smearing blood all over his left cheek. "It's...it's," he tried to say, but he was cut off by another coughing spasm.

"It's just a tickle," he was finally able to mumble, smiling humorously to reveal his teeth, stained red.

"Asher..." Oliver muttered, making a small sound in the back of his throat. He watched his best friend hack up blood with wide, panicking eyes. "How long?"

"How long what?" Asher asked bitterly, spitting out a wad of blood through the broken car window.

"How long have you been sick?"

Asher threw his hands up in exasperation. "I'm not-"

"Asher," Oliver said sternly. "Just answer the question."

Asher sighed in defeat, running a hand through his dirty hair. "Longer," he said. "It started...around the time when we left the school."

"Christ, Asher," I said, shaking my head. "Why didn't you say anything?"

He shrugged, ducking his head. "It's not that big of a deal. There's nothing we can do."

Oliver and I shared a look, a worried look. I could only imagine how he must've felt, his best friend laying in his death bed.

I tried to say something, to tell Asher that there was hope and there was something that we could do. But he was right-there really was nothing we could do.

Becoming hopeless considering my own condition, I fell back against the seat, my head dropping into my hands. My eyes suddenly hurt, a stabbing pain that forced me to close them.

"How did it happen?" Kyle asked suddenly. I was tempted to look at him, but I kept my eyes closed, the pain too much.

"How the heck and I supposed to know?" Asher said, turning on him in anger. " How did the electricity go out? How did the tsunami happen? Jesus, It's not like I know everything about stupid alien diseases!"

"Well, it must be something!" Kyle said. "It can't just start with one person and spread and be this deadly!"

I wanted to point out that it actually could start out with one person and spread and be this deadly, but I was too tired.

Asher exhaled loudly, and I could picture him rubbing at his eyes under his glasses. "It started," he mumbled through his hands. "When a bird pooped on me."

The car suddenly started to shake with laughter, Kyle and even Ben busting out into hysterics. I managed to crack my eyes open to give them annoyed looks, finding that Oliver wasn't laughing. He had a grim look on his face, even though I could tell that the idea of Asher getting pooped on by a bird was the highlight of his life.

Our eyes met, the laughter hurting my head and rattling me right to my weak bones. But when Oliver looked into my eyes, his face fell, suddenly becoming concerned.

"Your eyes," he mumbled. He looked at Kyle and Ben in annoyance. "Would you both shut up and look at her eyes!"

Kyle stopped laughing almost immediately, turning to look at me. Ben died down as well, his face coming into view.

"Shiza," Kyle muttered. I only furrowed my eyebrows, wondering what could possibly be wrong with my eyes.

I wiggled out from in between them, climbing up next to Oliver and Asher so that I could look into the rearview mirror. I gasped when I saw myself, not only because I looked like absolute crap, but because ringed around the blue of my eyes, seeping into the white part, was blood.

I blinked, hoping that it would go away. But it was still there, red and vibrant. Panicking, I looked over at Asher, grabbing him by the face and looking into his eyes. Perfectly blue.

I cursed, returning to my spot. I kicked at the seat in front of me, angry and upset. None of it made any sense.

"Maybe some cases are quicker than others," Kyle suggested. "I mean, this is the most we've heard Asher cough, and he's had it for three days."

"Let's go over what we know," Oliver said, twisting around in his seat to face us. "It spreads by...what did Asher say? Bird poop?"

I shrugged, annoyed as I heard Kyle and Ben try to hide their giggles. "I think birds in general. Millions of 'em all over the world. Like the tsunami, this was pretty smart of them."

"It happens quickly, depending on the person," Oliver said, sending me a small glance. I ignored it.

"And," he said, speaking softly. "There's no cure."

"So how do we live?" I asked without really looking for an answer. I pinched the bridge of my nose, my headache growing.

The answer fell easily from Asher's lips, so crisp and clear that it made me wonder why I even had to ask.

"We don't."


End file.
